#he’s messy and so so high-energy and I adore him for it. i just know he’d be a joy to play dnd with

[vampirepunks]

I love you Higgs Monaghan’s ADHD

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 07:02 A.M 」

based on an ask but i can't find the post :') and i'm working on remarried empress au i promise :'D so please make do with this first. anyways, more domestic dad!gojo and reader ahead~

a part of gojo's love entries

“mph, so cold...”

satoru was awoken by the chill biting at his whole body as he realized he was naked from the waist up, and saw that you, vast asleep, were hogging the whole blanket to cocoon yourself.

this is why i’m freezing! but eh...

and then he really saw you. curling up with messy hair, lips adorably pursed even in your sleep, and overall, you looked so soft and vulnerable in his eyes.

mine, all mine... satoru didn’t need to blink to see you better but he did anyway, and the sight brought a fond smile to his face. you were rightly exhausted after last night and he quietly snickered to himself, thinking of your mewls. out of cuteness aggression, he hugged you along with your blanket and planted kisses on your face.

“mm, ahh...” you groaned, and he dived in to suck your neck.

your smooth skin and soft pants... gods, he just wanted to gobble you all over again—

“go... awaay...” but then you flipped your body away from him, mumbling and hiding your head under the blanket altogether.

satoru was left reeling at the refusal, heartbrokenly pouting, but then he heard the pitter patter of tiny steps and immediately looked at the door to find his cute son curiously opening the door and peeking his head inside.

ah, another one of his great blessings.

“hey you.” satoru grinned immediately as his toddler’s round blue eyes widened in slight surprise. “why are you awake so early? come here.”

“yaaay!” the munchkin cheered at the invitation and was really about to jump into the bed when he sat up to stop him. “shh, don't be too loud!”

“—?” his boy looked at him with a sad frown as he picked him up and placed him on the bed next to him.

“oh no, don’t be sad. just let mama sleep longer, yeah? she’s tired.”

“mm, why?”

“why? well, she didn’t get enough sleep, that’s why.”

“but you sleep together...?”

“hmm~ we played a game a bit before sleeping and it ate all her energy.”

satoru mentally did a victory pose as his minion no longer questioned him, but then his clear eyes were transfixed on his bare body. “papa, you nakey...?”

your curious son was adorable in every way. he inherited your natural cuteness and satoru wanted nothing more than indulging him but...

he suddenly engulfed him in a bear hug and squeezed him tightly, making him almost squeal.

“yes! and now i’m cold so you’re my new heater!”

“waaaaa nooo!”

it was a morning just like any other day, with his baby and his wife, and yet satoru knew that surely today was going to be a good day.

“minion, you do know i love you and your mama veeeery much, don’t you?~”

epilogue

it happened during breakfast. you were sitting your son in his high chair and about to prepare simple omelet for the three of you to share when you heard it—

“mamaaa, what game did you and papa play? wanna play too!” your innocent boy asked with gummy smile, and you cocked your head in confusion.

“game...?”

“papa said you played a game together... at night!”

you honestly couldn’t connect the dots together, so you turned to your husband for help... but satoru merely awkwardly chuckled to himself.

“papa said... the game makes you tired and ate your energy!”

tired? ate energy? the gears in your head were turning and you came to a conclusion so quick as you shot a glare at satoru.

“well, it is a game your papa really enjoys,” you scathingly replied, not looking away from him as he inwardly gulped. but oho, you were in no forgiving mood this morning and so you wickedly smirked.

“let’s try to ask him about it. so, papa, what did we play again, hmm?”

[lovelyghst]

it should be criminal how könig switches so easily from edging his pretty girl to sobs and tears, to overstimulating her til she can’t think.

he'd be so tauntingly sweet with it, too, which is the worst part. you would even admit he knows you better than you know yourself, your own body, maturity and all. he knows your signs for how you're feeling, all of the tells that warn him you're close. how your chest begins to heave in short bursts, drawn out moans turning into small, consecutive, and absolutely desperate whines. smaller fingers digging into his scalp, trying your best to pull him back when he breaks contact but to no avail. he just finds it all to be so, so adorable.

he'll have you on your back, ensuring you're in your most comfortable state before even thinking of taking off your clothes. massaging your tense muscles, resting your head on a soft pillow before stripping you of his shirt you wore along with your shorts. sparing a moment to tease you over the fabric of your soaked, cotton panties, even tonguing its wetness before peeling them back to reveal your sweet, little pussy. he knows you're sensitive today when you wince at just the cold air alone, meaning this will be all the more fun for him.

“do you need a break?” he asks, which instantly zaps energy into you. a break is the very last thing you need when you’re so close.

“no—! no, please… wanna come, i- i need to come, please, könig...”

"awe, baby..." he deters his eyes for a moment to check his watch, tisking his tongue when he reads the little dial. "it has barely been twenty minutes. don't tell me you've already had enough, now."

"just wanna come," you beg and plead. "promise, just once and then you can do whatever you want."

his large and rough hand languidly rubs up and down your thigh, a seeming attempt to soothe you that really only gets you more worked up, making you huff out in frustration. "but you've lasted far longer than this before. thought you wanted to be good for me today... what has you tapping out so early, sweetheart?"

"...'m not tapping out," you mutter in a contesting tone, with that stubborn attitude of yours that always makes him smile.

his lips pull tight, a corner going upward. "so you want to continue?"

you wipe beneath your eye with the back of your hand to catch a fallen and skin-tickling tear, reluctantly nodding your head with a faint hum. throwing your head back against the pillow defeatedly, sulking along the way. usually he prefers to see your face, but he knows how overwhelmed you can get during these moments.

he coos to you proudly nonetheless: “that’s my strong girl.”

it hurts, but it hurts so fucking nicely when he's the one controlling it. it aches so wonderfully when you know that what's to come afterwards will be far more than rewarding, even if it makes you sniffle and stain your face and the pillow beneath you with tears.

and finally, finally… he allows you to finish against his tongue. he tells you to come, promising that it’s not another mean trick, and your body listens decorously. ears ringing and vision going blurry as your orgasm hits you harder than ever - because that's his goal, each and every time, to see if he can drag it on a bit longer than the last.

nothing beats the white noise in your brain, buzzing in your teeth and stars in your eyes whilst he watches you come undone, blown out hearts in his own gaze. every bit of it is addicting; the high you get from the overstimulation, how he keeps you on your toes and never knowing if the next time he audaciously makes-out with your messy cunt will be the last. the way you squeeze your thighs and lock him in but simultaneously try to squirm away. his favorite part is when you do somehow manage to escape his hold just to turn around and instantly begin apologizing profusely, begging him for forgiveness and more because that brain-melting stimulation is just too good.

and it’s all just so cute to him. your anger towards him, your drunken dumbness that sparks when he first shoves his tongue in you; he doesn’t like to think of himself as a sadist, but christ, would he be lying if he said the image of you all edged and fucked-out with a mushy brain doesn’t leave him so utterly satisfied with himself.

[honey-milk-depresso]

hello love, i adore your work.

could i get something with the batboys with a spider woman reader?

💜💜

I’m making them spiderperson cuz gotta stay GN for everyone to self insert themselves 🩷

BUT YEAHHDHWIAHFOAJDKSJX MORE BATFAM REQUESTS >:)))

Requests open until 1 Feb (GMT 8+)! Please read the rules on my pinned post (provided the navi post link to go to rules). Thank you!🩷🩷

***S/o is above 18, which means characters below are also aged up!

Batbros with a Spider-S/o

Dick Grayson

He loves you! You manoeuvre in the air and swing about just like him! Just that you got webs, cool!

Definitely joins you in hanging upside down, also loving to compete with you (lovingly) to see who can jump the farthest, or who can do the most bomb-tastic somersault with you and you guys have so much fun during patrol it’s not even patrol anymore.

Beating bad guys in the most dramatic, acrobatic way possible is definitely something Bruce and the rest of the brothers all sigh collectively because you two can be pretty chaotic.

But whatever, you two have so much fun jumping around.

Has taken you out on dates as Nightwing and your spider-sona, because even people around the city thinks you two are a match made in heaven. I imagined a pizza guy giving them a box and saying for them to have fun while swinging around with Dick and having pizza in between your teeth while you race to see who can reach the far end of a street whilst swinging and stunting about.

Overall, you two make a loveable couple of acrobats. <3

Jason Todd

He thought you were annoying at first, but even he can’t deny you make his day (most of the time).

He feels a bit irritated yet amused whenever you hang upside down and playfully greet him or joke with him while on patrol, sometimes in secret which scares the shit out of him when you pop out of no where and he starts cussing before letting out a long, exasperated sigh when he looks at you laughing to yourself. Damn spider…

But even so, he can’t help but dote on you, even if you can be an annoying ball of energy sometimes. He just can’t help but let you jump around him with your spiderwebs all over the house when you try to take something from afar, using the webs to pull it towards you. Although… you are a bit bashful and guilty for keeping his tidy room messy with webs everywhere that you help clean up which he appreciates.

On patrols, you’re usually faster than him and sometimes he complains so you just shut him up by scooping him in his arms and holding him by the waist with one hand before web-slinging your way to the location where the criminal gang is as he huffed. From afar at times, it looks like a grown ass man being baby carried or held like a big dog by some spider person across the high buildings, which he gets a little flustered over.

Regardless, Jason still loves you. Just don’t shoot the webs everywhere- <3

Tim Drake

He’s fascinated by you, how your webs work and how you can stick on walls with just your fingertips.

Tim might ask a lot of questions about your anatomy and what your spider body can do which sometimes annoy you but he’s just so curious he can’t help it. Genuinely.

Another one who you scare the shit out of with you surprising him by hanging upside down and popping your head down to face his out of no where, but he’s not like Jason who reacts very… dramatically, he’ll just recover from shock to contort into a pout and maybe gently flick your forehead to tell you to knock it off, although he knows you won’t.

Might be a sap for that upside down kiss where you kiss him upside down and all because of course he would be-

Tim loves asking you to use your web fluid for practically everything now. “Hey, s/o? Could you use your web fluid to stick this circuit board in here?” “S/o could you grab the remote with your web? Pleaseeeee?” “S/o, I kinda need your web fluid to close up the hole in my pants-” sometimes you gotta tell him that’s not gonna work sometimes, and those pants will look weird if you do that-

Overall, Tim loves his whacky, loveable spider s/o. <3

Damian Wayne

Also like Jason, he found you annoying. But this guy is hard in denial before he admits he even likes you.

Damian, at first, keep scowling at how annoying you can be with your web-slinging for fun and not for patrol, and getting web strings all over his suit after patrol from an intense fight against the criminal gang you two were assigned to take down. Now, he still scowls but with a blush and his heart skipping a beat because he can’t deny how cute you are even if you’re an annoying lil shi- (or maybe you ain’t little but you get the point).

Damian will tolerate you swinging about, although he isn’t scared when you hang upside down to spook him a bit because you literally can’t, his god-like sense of instincts would immediately pick up on you without even needing to turn to face you. Sometimes you joke with him that he has spidey-senses to which he rolls his eyes casually.

He won’t say it out loud, but he thinks you’re a pretty impressive fighter and you kinda remind him of Dick but you’re still unique. He just make sure your web fluids don’t go all over the place that you make a mess of the evidence for the police.

Overall, a tsundere for his spider s/o. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

[kittyball23]

A Different Kind of Scrapbook (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: A wondrous night with Branch prompts Poppy to do the only thing she can do when she's bursting with joy - scrapbook. Though, this particular one is not quite the same as the ones she's made in the past... **Rated M**

A/N: I admit, I wrote this about 4 days after the first trailer of Trolls 3 came out back in March XD

__________________________________________

Poppy could not bring herself to sleep.

Yes, her body was exhausted, but it was her mind that was not.

The Queen of Pop could not help herself in laying there with her bright fuschia eyes opened wide, reeling, unseeing to the earthen ceiling overhead as she ran over every moment of the night’s events in her head. She sighed, smiling, giggling with giddiness into the still night air as she had on occasion for the last restless hour squirming in the bed, wishing instead that she could flail her arms high above her head in the air and sing at the top of her lungs. But even she knew that would not be a reasonable thing to do. One, it was the middle of the night. Even Trolls knew when it was supposed to be a time for resting. And two, going off of the first reason, she most certainly didn’t want to disturb the cuddled teal form next to her. The hands-down best member of the newly re-banded Brozone, her closest dearest friend and boyfriend – her Branch.

She looked down at him now, completely admiring the way he slept so comfortably with his eyes shut contently, his bluish-black hair tousled about in a messy, adorable way, and the way his breathing came out in soft, calm intervals alongside the steady rise and fall of his chest. Poppy squealed softly, infatuated, and shot her arms out, ready to fling them around his neck for a tight, bone-crushing hug. But she stopped herself, arms midair, as she thought about it more. She didn’t think it would be right, awakening her boyfriend from such a peaceful slumber like that just for a hug. Not that she thought he would mind. In fact, Branch would probably be happy to receive a hug from her, be it night, day, or any time in between. But, out of respect for him and his serene dozing, she decided not to. But she had to hug something! She turned to one of the pillows below their heads, giving it the crushing bear-hug instead, burying her nose within its fabric to catch a whiff of his nature-esque scent embedded within. It was an aroma that made her swoon.

And yet, as Poppy released herself from the gripping hug she’d bestowed on the pillow, she still didn’t feel relieved of that lingering bout of energy within herself. She didn’t think she would be. And she wanted to do something about that. But first…

She took into consideration her situation. A matter as simple as getting out of the bed would have been easier said than done, if not for the way Branch’s teal limbs hugged her close, cocooning her with his warmth, not to mention the strands of his rich bluish-black hair that had subconsciously interwoven themselves with hers at the top of their heads. Poppy could not complain – never in a million years would she complain of such a blissful arrangement. But, as much as she hated to do so, she did need to maneuver her way out of it.

Poppy chewed the bottom of her pink lip in contemplation. Maybe she could stay? A little longer? She thought about it, laying there in Branch’s strong arms for another hour or two, going on in the same way she had for the last hour or two, itching for more action but knowing that she probably shouldn’t engage, running on a high that she couldn’t act on…

Nah.

Poppy shifted, slowly, steadily undoing herself and prying Branch away from her albeit a bit unwillingly. It took a little effort – the troll’s hold even in sleep was quite firm – but she managed to get up and out, grateful that he hadn’t awakened with all of her wriggling. She’d previously known Branch to be a light sleeper, given his former paranoia in regards to Bergens and other dangers. It didn’t exactly surprise her. He was still a cautious troll, but it wasn’t nearly to the overly-exaggerated extent that it had been before, well… before her, she thought with a blush. There was no doubt that she’d changed his life. She’d always pictured it as her inviting him to a few parties that would make him turn happy again. But the way that it'd happened – and all their adventures in between – Poppy was glad that things had turned out that way instead.

She was about to get lost in memories when she felt a stirring beside her. Uh-oh. Perhaps she’d spoken too soon… Branch was grasping out, patting the bed beside him in a blind search for the Queen. Not able to feel her, she saw him visibly tense, his eyebrows furrowing slightly and his eyelids beginning to twitch. Poppy grimaced.

UH-OH.

Not really thinking, Poppy quickly leaned down, pressing her lips against his cheek in a quick peck of a kiss.

The effect worked like a charm. Branch’s tenseness instantly melted away, his limbs going limp and his face taking on a dreamy smile. He cuddled into the pillows, mumbling syllables that sounded awfully similar to her name had it not been for the drowsy quality to his voice. But she could make them out all the same, and she blushed, remembering just how many times – or rather, not quite remembering just how many times – he had said her name that night. Loudly, tenderly, frantically, passionately… Poppy shivered delightfully in recollection, knowing very well how she’d done the same with his. Who knew ‘Branch’ could have so many different contexts!

She giggled softly to herself, intoxicated with giddiness. Now free from the grasp of her beloved, she sought out her clothes from their abandoned pile strewn on the floor, redressing and doing a little twirl. A jig followed that twirl, and then a handful of other dance moves, the Queen of Pop ensuring that they were silent save for the light patting of feet on the floor below and the occasional pants she took to catch her breath. The Running Man. The Dougie. The Moonwalk. The Floss. Heck, even the Macarena!

But even after her little dancing spree, Poppy still didn’t feel worn. There was still lots of energy waiting to be expended within her.

The pink troll glanced around their room, wondering what else she could occupy her time with. Baking? Nah, the smell was going to wake Branch, plus she didn’t quite trust herself to not make a mess. Poppy could already picture herself covered from head to toe in flour from having thrown it in the air like confetti. Diary writing? No way. She’d only end up ripping into the pages with her excited scribbling, or doodling way too much instead of writing, or ripping pages out to make cute little cut-outs…

OHHH, wait!

Scrapbooking!

Poppy smacked her forehead in realization. DUH!

It was one of her favorite activities, and relatively quiet save for the soft clips of scissors and the shuffling of paper. She tucked her hands under her chin and squealed softly in excitement. It was a great idea!

Seating herself upon the floor a distance from the bed, Poppy began collecting the key items, some of it in her hair, and some of it already in their room. Once laid out, she ran over the list in her head.

Glitter? Check!

Construction paper? Check!

Felt? Check!

Glue? Check!

Scissors? Check!

The pink queen smiled, satisfied. Now that that was done, she could start! Only… what was she going to scrapbook about? Poppy paused and thought. There were sooooo many options! Bridget and Gristle’s wedding, meeting John Dory and Brozone, reuniting with her sister Viva, the Family Harmony.... How in the world could a queen choose?!

Even so, she reeled back a bit. Her head was running a hundred miles an hour practically, and she wanted to take it down a notch. Well, let’s see… what was my FAVORITE moment? Wrong question. Asking herself to pick a favorite would be like asking her to pick between cookies and cupcakes, confetti or glitter, lasers or foam. In other words, impossible.

Or maybe not TOO impossible…

Poppy felt a heavy blush coat her cheeks when a fleeting thought entered her mind. Thoughts about how much she’d enjoyed last night, with all its passion and intensity, had been flooding through her brain nonstop. She giggled goofily, infatuated all over again. It was EVERY single positive word under the sun. Incredible! Sensational! Fantastic! Wonderful! Amazing! Perfect! The list went on and on in Poppy’s head, as her hands, with a seeming mind of their own, started to reach for the scissors and paper, beginning to cut…

Whoa, whoa, WHOA, wait, what am I doing?!

The queen froze in place, suddenly very aware of what she was about to do. Holy cupcakes and sprinkles, I wasn’t about to…? But the teal and pink colored felts that she held in her hands only confirmed to her that yes, she had been about to. Poppy felt hot embarrassment course through her. She was about to scrapbook THAT? The Pop queen shook her head, bewildered at herself. Oh, no, no, no, she couldn’t.

But I want to.

There were better things to scrapbook.

Not better than THAT.

More decent things.

And last night wasn’t decent?

NO, last night was SPECTACULAR! Like a glitter cannon exploded rainbows and kittens, and the sky rained cupcakes and cookies, and unicorns and butterflies sang happy songs for me, and –

Before she knew it, Poppy had snipped out little felt figurines of herself and Branch, the glue about to be used to paste them together in a rather compromising position. But before it could be done, Poppy flung the figurines down to the floor, embarrassed once more. Sugar, get yourself together!

Her scolding not enough, Poppy distracted herself by grabbing some other colored paper and began snipping out little figurines of Brozone. She supposed they were nice guys.

Branch is a nice guy. In fact, he was REALLY nice last night…

Poppy bit her lip, willing herself to focus. She selected a background for her work, a nice bright blue paper aquamarine in its hue.

Blue like Branch.

Poppy blinked, ignoring her blush, and continuing to snip at the paper. But when she went to paste her little Brozone figures onto the background, Poppy realized with much dismay that it had not been John Dory, Bruce, Clay, and Floyd that she’d made. Somehow, she’d snipped five little figurines of Brozone’s youngest, cutest member. Branch. Poppy tossed the papers down in dismay. UGH. It’s no use! It was clear to her that she didn’t just want to get it out of her system. She needed to. So, unwilling to resist it any longer, the Queen of Pop hunkered down, a determined look on her pink features, and really got down to work on what she had to.

__________________________________________

Poppy was surprised. It had only felt like five minutes had passed. But when she took a look at the clock on her Hug Time watch, it had actually been five hours. She giggled in spite of herself. How time flies when you scrapbooked! The queen felt as though she’d reached a good stopping point, however, given that morning had broken through. She proudly took a look at the not one, not two, but three scrapbooks that she’d created. The first couple made up a two-parter depicting their wild adventure with John Dory, Bruce, Clay, Floyd, and Viva. And the other… well, let’s just say the other was for her eyes only. Hers, and…

“GOOD MORNING, BRANCH!!”

The queen of pop yelled out her boisterous greeting at the first sign of her boyfriend stirring to life from his sleep. The teal troll yelped in surprise, sitting bolt upright in the bed and clutching onto the sheets like a safety blanket. His blue eyes were wild with shock, startled, until he fixed his gaze on the gleeful pink presence of Poppy, and realized that there was no danger. He huffed out a short laugh and shook his head. "Gotta start getting used to that wake-up call, huh?"

Poppy giggled and nodded. "Yep!"

Branch chuckled, rubbing some of the sleep out of his eyes and assessing the state of his girlfriend. She was energetic, per usual, though the glint in her eye and the brilliant smile on her face was just a tad more overly energetic than usual. He recognized that look, having seen it before when she planned to visit Bergen town and share their holidays with Bridget and Gristle, and he knew what it meant.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?”

“Not a wink!” Poppy confirmed.

Branch narrowed his eyes at her. “You didn’t watch me sleep the whole time, did you?”

Poppy shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe. Just a little bit, though.”

Branch couldn’t help the grin that slightly tugged at the corner of his lip. The idea of someone watching you while you slept was, on a usual account, somewhat unnerving. But knowing that it’d been Poppy, well, it wasn’t such an unsettling thing.

“So…” he began to ask, “What did you do all night after we… uhh… er…” Branch faltered, his cheeks darkening at the obvious indication he was making. “… you know,” he finished quietly, waving his hand.

Poppy smiled wider. “Glad you asked! I worked on this!” She pulled out the trio of scrapbooks that she had and showed it to him.

“Scrapbooking,” he said monotonously. “My first, and only guess.”

Poppy giggled. “Well, you guessed right!” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. The troll blushed, a sweet giggle of his own escaping as she handed him the first book. The cover on this one depicted themselves in the center, with little figurines of Brozone and Viva. He instantly knew that it was their most recent adventure they’d had. Intrigued, he flipped through the pages, and recollected the tale through Poppy’s felted, glittered, and pop-up figurines. When Poppy had found him in his Grandma’s old pod. When the wedding had happened, and John Dory had crashed it. When they went on their search for the brothers, finding Bruce on Vacay Island, and Clay and Viva in Putt Putt Village. The second scrapbook held the rest of the story within. In which they all headed off to Mount Rageous and began to practice their singing. When Branch had walked off, and then he and Poppy and Tiny had found Floyd. When the chase through Mount Rageous ensued, leading up to the Family Harmony that was sung in order to break Floyd - and the other brothers who’d been captured - from their diamond imprisonments. Branch grinned. Poppy’s scrapbooks were always quite incredible. She had a real talent, with the way she carefully composed each page in an incredibly accurate manner, a photographic memory transferred to the page. He set down the first two scrapbooks, then took the third scrapbook from her hands. This particular one had a harmless enough cover – the two of them in their usual outfits - his green leafy vest and brown shorts and her blue dress - hand in hand, with a large, pink heart in the background colored in various shades of pink. “This looks cute,” he commented, running his fingers over the soft felt.

A mischievous glint was in Poppy’s eyes at his words. “Just wait until you see the inside,” she whispered.

He arched an eyebrow at her, a little curious, and flipped open the first few pages. It was the two of them, with every one of their friends and family around them in perfect harmony. Branch grinned, and turned to the next page, finding it to be the two of them sharing that amazing, heart-stopping kiss – the one that had occurred right after they had successfully completed their mission. Branch loved that kiss. Branch loved all her kisses. The next page had everyone cheering for them, having little speech bubbles that had hearts and exclamations in them. The next page after that had the two of them in Branch’s bunker, heart-eyes on both of their faces as they faced each other, standing near the bed and lovingly holding hands. And the next page…

WHOA, wait a minute…

Branch double took, rubbing his eyes, thinking that maybe it was the bleary sleepiness that was making them work incorrectly. But when he took another look, he knew he wasn’t misinterpreting what he was seeing. “Uhh… Poppy?” he asked, tentatively.

Poppy batted her lashes at him innocently. “Yes?”

“Please tell me you’re still working on this page?” He looked at her hopefully, hoping that it had been a mistake and that she didn’t actually scrapbook that…

But the hope was dashed when she shook her head.

“Nope!” Branch gaped at her and her nonchalant attitude. He on the other hand was nonplussed, disbelieving of what he saw. Maybe this was the only page like that, he thought optimistically as he turned to the next page. She COULDN’T have actually –

But Branch’s jaw dropped at what was on that next page, his blue eyes nearly bulging right out of their sockets. He was grateful that she hadn’t gotten the brilliant idea to serve him breakfast in bed, because if he had been sipping his usual cup of coffee, he knew it would have gone flying out of his mouth.

“POPPY!” he shrieked. “WHAT IN THE NAME OF SPRINKLES – “

“Ooo, ooo, ooo, wait!” Poppy cut him off excitedly. “Before you go to the next page, there’s this little thingie here that you move, see?” It was a pull tab she was talking about. She moved it back and forth, in turn creating certain motions for their figurines in the scrapbook. Branch, now all too obvious to him that it was fully, one-hundred-percent intentional, felt a deep flush coat his cheeks. I wasn’t THAT rough… was I? Branch got his answer when Poppy flipped the scrapbook to the next page, where he was depicted using his hair for a rather risqué purpose. The teal troll almost fainted in mortification.

“Wh-WHAT THE - ?! HOW – WHY – Wh-when did I do that?!”

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t remember!” Poppy exclaimed. “It was right before you went down and – “

“OKAY YES, actually, I remember quite clearly now!” Branch interrupted, not wishing for her to get into a detailed explanation of the bold actions he’d taken afterwards. He could hardly believe that he did it in the first place! But it turned out that Poppy didn’t need to say anything at all about it – because it was all illustrated right there in the scrapbook’s following page, with another pull-tab to further help aid the visual.

“Holy sugar, Poppy….” he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his periwinkle nose.

“Oh, whaaat,” she whined playfully. “I really liked that part! You can’t tell me you didn’t either!”

I did, Branch thought reluctantly, but he wasn’t going to give in to admittance so easily. Unfortunately for him, Poppy wasn’t making his reluctance hang around for very long. She poked him on the side, teasingly, her voice holding a sing-songy lilt of amusement. “Come on, Branch, you know you did.”

Branch crossed his arms and turned his head away. That did not stop the queen of Pop.

Poke.

“Branch…”

He huffed.

Poke. Poke. Poke.

“Braaaaanch…”

He pressed his lips together into a thin line, preventing the smirk.

POKE-POKE-POKE-POKE-POKE-POKE.

“BRANCH!” 

He sighed, glancing at her but unable to scowl at her little victorious grin and smug features. “I guess…” he started slowly, “… it was… all right…”

Poppy feigned shock. “You ‘guess’?”

He groaned. “Okay, yes, it WAS… great. There, are you happy?”

Poppy giggled. “Always!”

Branch chuckled, briefly licking his lips at the memory of the unique, strawberry-vanilla-like flavor that had been on his tongue just a few short hours ago. Then he glanced at Poppy and smiled, her antics too infectious for him to remain annoyed for more than a moment. “I gotta say, though, I’m surprised I haven’t come across any glitter yet – “

But as soon as he’d said it, a blast of glitter shot out of the next page when he turned it, in the typical fashion that let him know that yes, he was looking at a Poppy-made scrapbook. It sprayed onto his face, making it sparkly and silly-looking when paired with the stoic expression he’d put on.

“Aaand there it is,” Branch grumbled, playfully rolling his eyes as Poppy giggled. Then he took a closer look, and Branch’s eyes widened as he gasped. “Poppy!”

“Yep?” she asked, still grinning that toothy grin.

“D-Did you just make that come out of my – “

“YEP!”

Branch groaned, facepalming and suddenly not so fond of the glitter all over his face. His reaction only set Poppy off even more, the pink Pop Queen doubling over with laughter, pleased with the clever utilization of the glitter. He gave her that same look he had always given her before, whenever any of her invitations had assaulted him with their sparkly spray.

“Poppyyyy…”

She giggled and then sighed. “I love it when you say my name.”

Branch opened his mouth, prepared to respond with a piece of his mind on this… this… bizarre scrapbook (to say in the least), but the only sound that rang out was the telltale ping from each of their bracelets on their wrists.

Poppy beamed. “Hug Time!” She flung her arms around Branch’s neck, tightly pressing herself against him in the hug she’d been itching to crush him with earlier, and almost making it hard for him to breath.

He gaped at her. Oh, no WAY. The conversation was NOT going to end here! Branch wiggled a bit, trying to break free of the tight hug, struggling to come undone from her pink arms and lithe form pressed against him, and…

Utterly failing.

Once Poppy had him in her grasp, there was no escape. But then again, he thought, why was he trying to escape? Poppy - his Poppy, his girlfriend – was hugging him. It was one of the best things he could share with her, aside from her sweet pink lips upon his, and aside from… err… what was depicted in the scrapbook.

He sighed, wrapping his blue arms around her waist and happily pressing against her. Poppy squealed delightedly and snuggled up closer to him. Another victory.

“That scrapbook better not see the light of day,” he mumbled.

Poppy snickered. “It won’t.”

Branch pulled back slightly to eye her. “You promise?”

She held up her finger. “I pinky promise.”

He held up his pinky, connecting it with hers and creating a whirlwind of sparkling pink and blue splendor around them. They laughed gleefully at the spectacle, his blue eyes gazing tenderly into her brilliant fuchsia, and the distance between them closing in a warm, sweet kiss. In the split second that Branch had - gazing at her after parting and pondering whether he should take the initiative, grab her, and have them enjoy each other again - Poppy suddenly stood right up and reached for her dress.

“Well, come on!” she said cheerily. “The morning song isn’t going to sing itself, you know!”

Branch blinked.  “Wh – but – I thought… I mean, we don’t have to leave so soon… I do have enough supplies to last us ten years, you know…” He waggled his eyebrow, and she chuckled. Poppy just could not resist him.

“Ooor, we could cuddle for a little bit more, and then head out, okay?”

He leaned in and kissed her again. “Deal.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Lucky Rabbit Blow The Dice

Chapter Two

High Roller!Orpheus x Reader

Rated Explicit | bdsm themes, subspace

On Ao3

Chapter One

When High Roller won you, he did not touch you nor did he immediately steal you away to a new casino. No, High Roller gave you three days to gather your belongings and say your goodbyes, and then he picked you up in a far too expensive automobile.

Gentlemanly while so very coy.

High Roller plays mind games when he sees the advantage he has over you, he makes you resistant to assisting the casino at first. You refused to be charmed, you refused to tip the balance of luck to the house, and you more than once told High Roller to ‘go fuck himself’.

Brat? Very much so. High Roller can appreciate determination until it becomes stubbornness.

However, see you currently in tears as you cum all over his cock just from insertion, it makes it worth the brat behavior.

“Good, little rabbit.” Spoken before slapping your ass, “Go on, hop.” You struggle to lift yourself up from the table but after all the edging he made you do while giving him a show, your body barely is responding. Oh, and he knows it, High Roller adores how you are not yet used to his games when it comes to pleasure.

“Fuck you.” You hate how you moaned the last part out because he made sure to push deeper inside of you.

“Dear, I intend to do that.”

The table is going to be ruined with how you are drooling from the side of your mouth; not to mention the stain left there when High Roller had you go on all fours, getting off while giving a clear view of what your hand was doing.

Bastard.

You cover your mouth when you try to move, legs wobbling as he decides to just bend you over (he states the table cannot support both yours and his weight, liar), moving by using the table to push backward against him.

“Ah, you still have so much to learn, rabbit.” Critiquing your messy movements that he keeps purposely making worse by pulling away and then slamming forward. There is a rustle before he pulls both of your arms and places them behind your back, held there by what feels like a ribbon.

“One must always be prepared for an Ace in the hole.”

If you weren't so fucked out of your mind currently, you would tell him how corny that joke is.

Instead, you are now vulnerable to screaming out his name like he is a very being you could not live without.

“Orpheus!”

When he finally took you to his bed, it was after that night he told you his name. You wonder if he got annoyed with you calling out ‘High Roller’ as you cum or begged him to keep going. The way he told you was during breakfast as he served you breakfast in bed.

So casually, as if a ‘by the way’ moment.

Strange man. Strange in the way you could not picture him being any other way.

Greedy too. Selfish too. And a know-it-all, definitely.

Charming… Sinfully charming.

You gasp, writhing, he turns you around to lay you on the table. A full view of your naked glory and a better position to shove his tongue into your mouth.

He kisses like how to gamble: confident and amazing. You won't tell him that! He has enough of an ego as it is.

“Rabbit,” Groaning as he tries now to keep himself from cumming so soon because of you.

High Roller moves his hands, the fabric of the gloves is like throwing oil in the already roaring flames in the pit of your stomach, they caress and toy with your nipples. Purposefully building up another peak. His teeth mark your skin before he takes a stiff nipple into his mouth.

Freeing a hand to go between your legs.

Like a house of cards in a rowdy room, you fall.

From your heat to your brain, your nerves on fire, your lungs ready to burst.

And he doesn't relent, no, he prolongs the fall into bliss. Like quicksand, as you try to fight for your sanity the further you sink. Soon you go limp, energy spent and unable to even move outside of Orpheus fucking you like he is powered by the damn city.

“My love?” Suddenly aware you are in a daze, drunk even, and needy like a kitten seeking attention. “Come back to me.”

Slowing his pace, he speaks to you encouraging you to reply to him in clear sentences. His affection this time used to ground you.

High Roller spoils you especially when he has been partially rough and or relent. You guess this is a reward for being a good fuck (cruel, Orpheus would never call you that… Though he has called you a hussy before). You woke up to being bathed in the bathroom of the shared suite with him, his jacket off and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair is messy with none of the usual card pins, and his eyes are on you.

You swear the way he looks at you no novelist could capture it. It is wanted, desired, and needed all within those brown eyes.

“Orpheus,” Sitting up in the tub filled with water with bathing oils and petals. He is pleased to have you once more present of mind rather than drifting in the endorphin-created high. Rarely has he put you in such a state, but when he does, High Roller learned to stop and ease you back to reality. Drawing you back to the present he found sensory help. The bath assisted in that and cleaning you up.

“Yes, my little rabbit?” Sitting beside the tub on a bath stool. His hands were busy massaging your feet. You wear those highs all day, you poor thing must be sore.

“Hmm,” You close your eyes as he continues to rub, his hand drifting up your leg, “You didn't cum.”

“Feeling a little empty, my little rabbit,” You moan as he touches between your legs, “Worry not once you recover,” Leaning forward to tease you, “You will be well filled.”

[nuhackearney]

Fic: At A Loss

For @romanthereigns and anyone else feeling a little blue over LA's loss tonight. I said I wouldn't go here, but here we are...(aka, LA Knight x Reader)

You get people drinks, you pick up towels, you watch over equipment...yeah, you're pretty much a go-fer, but you adore your job! You get to travel, meet interesting people and you work for one of the most entertaining businesses in the world - the WWE!

Sure, the superstars don't know your name and you're not famous or anything, but you're an important cog in a big machine and you know your worth.

...you also know you have a helpless, stupid, unbelievably bad crush on LA Knight.

...yeah.

You're into him.

Too bad that, just like everyone else in the biz, he'll never notice you. Hell, he doesn't even know you exist.

Or so you think.

You're on hand for Crown Jewel. The energy is high, the activity chaotic. You've never dashed around so much in your life! Water bottle for Sami Zayn here, a boom for a member of camera crew there, and so on and so on.

You manage to catch snippets of different matches, but as a whole it's hard to keep up. Right until the very end. The end where the Bloodline yet again interferes and yet again help Roman score the win.

...which means LA lost.

It's a sobering realization. You were really rooting for him - even aside from your ridiculous one sided crush - you were hoping for someone to finally dethrone the Tribal Chief.

But, yet again, disappointed.

Poor LA, you think, but you know better. He's a big strong guy, he'll bounce back, no skin off his nose. He's the Megastar, everyone says his name and everyone knows it's his game. He'll be fine.

Again, or so you think.

Until, very very late into the evening, as you go to clean up one of the messy break rooms and you come across him. It makes your breath bottle in your throat, the sight of him sitting on one of the cafeteria tables, his head in his hands.

He's fully dressed now - brown leather jacket, 'Yeah' shirt, jeans, and boots. A totally different look from what he wore to the ring tonight. He must hear you come in, because he lifts his head to turn and look at you.

You clear your throat and offer a weak wave, even as you manage a near toneless, "I'll, ah-? Come back later..."

The plan is to stealthily back out, but he sits up straight and gestures to you, "Naw, naw - come on over, y/n."

His voice is loud, but more somber than you've heard it before and he? He said your name? You carefully ease further into the room and walk towards him, your fingers sort of nervously playing with one another as you get closer, "Um? You know my name?"

"Sure. I've seen you at lots of shows. They call your name all the time for shit. Ice packs, sandwiches, hairspray - there anything they don't have you fetch?"

You shake your head because he's not wrong. Again, you know your role. Maybe that's what he needs? Your go-fer skills? And you're about to ask if you can get him something when he asks quietly, "Think you can get me a second shot?"

This makes you seize up, "What do you mean?"

He lets out a huff, "Guess you didn't see me lose out there."

You don't know what to say.

He does, "Oh yeah, a big ol' 'L'. Granted, Roman's boys stuck in their noses again - Solo making a stink at the front, Jimmy in the back, but the end results just the same."

You've never seen him so serious before, so-? Well, melancholy is the first word that comes to mind, and the thought twists your heart into knots. You want to reassure him. Say something cool or clever, but your tongue is numb as he runs one hand over his five o'clock grizzled chin, "I dunno. Maybe I've been fooling myself. Fooling everybody."

"That's not true!" You blurt it out so quickly you almost don't realize you're the one who said it. But then his blue eyes swing to you and it's like a laser slicing you in half, that intense focus of his.

You clear your throat and feel your cheeks heat even as you keep your eyes averted when you talk, "You're-? You're the real deal. I know it. I feel it."

You know he's still looking at you and you feel a little sick and your heart is beating double time but you press on, "Yes, you didn't take the gold this time, but everyone is still behind you. Everybody is still saying your name, chanting for you - you're a superstar, you're a champion!"

"Yeah?" And he asks his normally rowdy catchphrase in a wry, teasing way that only makes the heat in your cheeks worse and god, this is torture. Does he know you have a crush on him?!? Is he possibly teasing you to death?

Being on the business end of one of his BFT's would be kinder...

"Yeah." You cough into one hand so that you can try and subtly rub away some of the heat from your skin, "So, y'know - you'll win. Get the gold you deserve. It's only a matter of time."

"Matter of time, huh?"

You nod and finally risk looking at him. He looks deep in thought and it's almost as if you can read his mind, "I-? I know you have been waiting for a long time already. But... it's going to happen. I promise."

There's a beat of silence between you and then, out of nowhere, he throws back his head and laughs. It's a happy sound and attractive laugh lines appear under his eyes as he reaches out a hand to you and ruffles your hair.

Such a simple and silly action shouldn't be so stimulating, yet here you are, practically melting under it as he rubs warmly and gently at your scalp, "You know what, y/n? You're right. It IS going to happen. YEAH."

The last is said loudly and with his classic jovial tone as he withdraws his hand and he stands up to get down to your level, albeit he still towers over you, "Not only 'cause you promised me, but because I promised myself! I just needed the reminder!"

"Oh!" You offer weakly, breathlessly, "Uh, good! Glad I could help!"

Your next plan is to turn and scurry away because you're sure that's what he wants, because that's what everyone wants after you've helped, but he freezes you with a, "Now wait a minute, you ain't leaving, are ya?"

Your eyes go wide with confusion even as he offers you the kind of saucy grin you've only seen from afar, "'Cause I could still use your help."

"Y-you could?"

"Sure." He eyes you up and down, "I need somebody to go out and eat with me tonight. Need somebody to test my kavorka on. Make sure it's still working."

It is, trust me! Almost pops out of your mouth immediately, but this time you manage to hold the words back, instead giving him a demur, "Alright."

"There we go." He throws one arm around your shoulders and gives you a little squeeze, "Hey, stick with me, kid and I promise you, you'll get what you deserve!"

While you're positive that he thinks you deserve a better job or pay or something along those lines, you honestly hope that you get what you want more than what you deserve.

Hell, you're actually getting what you want right now.

A night out with LA Knight?

YEAH.

[kirbyskisses]

kuroo/reader || stardust

minors, blank, and ageless blogs do not interact.

i’m still mentally getting over a flood of negativity, so this is very sweet and soft; kuroo reacts to his first night as a father.

wc: 1,088

from the very first second that satomi kuroo’s pudgy, little hand just barely grasped around her father’s finger, you could tell his heart has melted and reformed to be hers and yours alone.

something in his catlike, golden-brown eyes shifts.

his pupils widen as he exhales and everything about him softens. he’s fallen in love with you all over again and somehow even more in love with the tiny daughter in his hands that you’ve created.

there’s a silence in the air for a while. it’s not tense nor impatient, only filled to the brim with warmth and satomi‘s tiny gurgling as your husband cradles and pokes her - still trying to fathom how real she is.

you break the silence first. you’re tired and numb from the excruciating pain that came with the miracle of introducing you daughter to the world and to your home. but you’re overjoyed and floating with affection. your face hurts from smiling so much.

your heart melts too, looking at him admire her minuscule form. satomi hiccups and dozes - skin soft and cleaned, hair still wet, messy and equally as black as her father’s.

“she’s beautiful.” you whisper, breathily.

“of course she is. you’re her mother.” he smiles with a witty laugh as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world - and to him it is.

to tetsuro kuroo, you’re the most beautiful creature on this earth and it’s only fitting all the beauty would pass down to your - and his - greatest creation.

time feels completely nonexistent. there is just this moment of him sitting by your bedside rocking her.

“can’t believe it…” he mutters.

“can’t believe what, ‘tsuro?” you question, voice sweet and half-asleep as he searches for the words.

he can’t believe that the stars exploded millennia ago, sparking the birth of energy, of hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and carbon. he can’t believe those stars found their way into tokyo to create him and then bring him to you. and that now those very same molecules are in his arms, cooing, brought to life again in his very own satomi.

he can’t believe that stardust is in his veins and in yours and in hers. tetsuro can’t believe -

“her. i can’t believe her. and you - god, you.” he shifts the bundle into the inbetween of one of his strong arms and his chest, using his now free hand to stroke your cheek and lean over slowly to kiss your forehead, then nose, each of your flushed cheeks and your lips.

you’ve only seen tetsuro cry twice - both time the result of that 3rd year trip to nationals. this is the third time, tears falling from his eyes when he shifts back into his bedside chair.

part of him is just overjoyed that both of his most treasured women are completely safe and happy. part of it is surprise.

he pauses to think of himself as the tiny kid who was too shy to speak. the one only kenma knew; scarred from having to block out his parents nightly screams with pillows stuffed to him head - he laughs between sniffles at how that habit lead to his permanent bed-head.

and he thinks of himself as the high school senior who snuck out of his hotel room at nationals just to sidle to your room. who pulled you out to the cold balcony in the pitch-black hours of the night and practically vomited out the words of a whispered proposal. he needed the security of knowing that even if he’d lose a match he’d wake up the next morning able to say he at least won you.

all of that anxious, insecure kid stands here now - a man with a job he adores and a wife he’s disgustingly in love with and the cutest little baby the world has ever known.

he looks back up and you’ve fallen asleep with a delicate “i love you” passing through your lips.

satomi’s little nose scrunches at the feeling of his tears hitting her face and he lets out another quiet chuckle.

“sorry, baby girl. daddy got a little too emotional thinking about you and mommy. but… you’re both asleep so let’s get you to bed.” he bounces her lightly as he walks, kissing her head and leaning to tuck her in when he reaches her bassinet.

“alright. all snug and cozy yeah?” fingers spinning the mobile above her head, tetsuro smiles at the twinkling noises made by the little cats and owls and volleyballs.

her eyes open ever so slightly and then close but not before he catches a glimpse of the equally amber eyes he bestowed upon her. he straightens up for fear he might be so overcome he’ll stumble into a pile of diaper boxes and plushies.

“you’re really…hell, you’re really ours.” his long fingers - calloused from years of volleyball but no less comforting - reach to stroke her tiny sleeping face.

“i shouldn’t say hell, huh? it’s okay mommy can’t hear me… but i should still say something good.” he tilts his chin up and ponders before the words fall out as natural as can be.

“i should say…. i love you. daddy loves you, satomi. and he loves mommy. god, i love her.” he sighs at just the thought of you; you’ve made him such a damn hopeless romantic.

“i’m going say it every day and every night, okay? i love you.”

he moves his hand and she squirms at the loss of contact. kuroo stiffens expecting a cry but she settles after a few moments and he watches her for what feels like eternity before hesitantly backing up, down the hallway and to your shared room. the door clicks and he notices you awake again when he slides beside your form.

“sorry, kitten. did I wake you?”

you shake your head and pull him in without words, conscious and still unused to having a body that no longer houses satomi within. finally you mumble something out, clinging to his tall form.

“how’s the baby?”

“how’s the mother?” he smiles and you think you fall in love with him all over again.

“the mother is… proud. and tired and so, so in love.”

“same as me then, huh, kitten? you’re so amazing.” he praises, setting kisses across your face. “and i can’t thank you enough for bringing her to me.”

you stroke his hair, warmed by his adoration for you and her - his two beings of utter stardust.

[starshine-hockey-girl]

This blurb is for PrincessPhilly's lyric challenge in honor of her birthday. I selected lyrics from Heaven Sent by Keshia Cole for Brandon Tanev.

It is a reader insert and just under 1500 words.

@princessphilly @pattiemac1 @penstxgal1968

Bellevue, Washington

You listened as Brandon walked in the door of your shared high rise condo. The brief serenity while your loves- both human and furry- took their unending energy and activity for a walk ended abruptly. You smiled as his baritone voice boomed through the condo and he animatedly spoke to the excited pups. He talked to them as if they understood his words.

On the surface, the two of you made no sense as a couple. You, the quiet and reserved one, and he, the loud and bodacious one, seemed like polar opposites. However, you had one common characteristic that made it work- passion. You both had a passion for your work and an even greater passion for each other.

The relationship took both of you by surprise. When you joined your Seattle Reign teammates for a ceremonial puck drop at the Seattle Kraken hockey game, you were nursing a broken heart from your first and only serious relationship. You were the very definition of “not looking for love”. However, when you were introduced to Brandon Tanev and he pulled you into a hug with a loud proclamation of “YN! I am a big fan”, you felt the electricity almost at once. You stumbled back and smiled nervously. Then he flashed his bright smile and you were hooked. When he asked for your number before you left, you gave it without hesitation.

Eighteen months later, you stood in the bathroom listening to him speak to the dogs- Jett and Messi. His one request when you moved into the condo over the summer was to get a dog. Yes, that was the plan to adopt one dog. However, as you walked through the rescue adoption event, he went straight to the pair of adorable Yorkie terriers who chased each other through an enclosed play yard.

“What do you think, Y/N?” he looked back at you as you observed.

“You want a small dog?” you asked incredulously, “You have been searching for labs for weeks.”

“I don’t know. I think a smaller dog would be better in the condo,” he bent down to pick up the bigger of the pair. He held him up to his face. “Cute, eh?” he asked. You knew instantly that he was hooked and there would be no talking him out of the tiny dog.

“Baby,” you smiled as you bent down to pick up the smaller of the pair, “He has a little buddy. Someone needs to adopt them as a pair.” You had hoped that would serve as some sort of deterrent to the selection. It had the opposite effect.

“Someone being us, Y/N” he smiled. You opened your mouth to object when he started to plead his case. “Think about it. They already know each other and they will have a built-in playmate. They won’t be so lonely when we are at practice. I’ll have one for each side of me when I watch your road games and you watch mine.” He took both of them into his hands. He started speaking to them. “Yes, do you want to come live with us? We’ll teach you all about hockey and soccer,” he spoke animatedly before putting them down to start chasing them through the play yard. You groaned. He looked up and flashed you a smile. “Come on, YN- you know you can’t resist this cuteness.”

You smiled. He, of course, referred to the dogs but it was infectious energy that you could not resist. “Fine,” you said as you climbed into the play yard and picked up one of the pair, “But only if I get to name them.”

“No way,” he laughed, “You name one. I’ll name the other one.” He picked up the other dog and examined it closely. “What’s your name, buddy?” he asked if the dog would answer. “Jett?” he grinned as he bestowed the name of his first NHL team on to the Yorkie.

You looked at Jett's partner in crime, “Well okay, Messi- let’s go home.”

You were lost in the memory when you heard him bounding up the stairs. His footsteps were loud as he lept the stairs two at a time. The pitter patter of tiny paws tried their best to keep up with him. “Come on boys. Let’s go see YN,” he called as he reached the top of the steps, raced into the bedroom and slid on his sock-covered feet into the bathroom. You looked up at him in the mirror reflection. He held out a cup from your favorite coffee shop- the one he took you on your first unofficial date. “I thought you could use the extra caffeine tonight,” he smiled as he handed it to you.

You smiled and accepted the drink from him. “He knew,” you thought to yourself. He knew that the gala would require all of the social energy you had in you. Being in large crowds, entertaining and charming people came naturally to Brandon. To you, it was an effort. One that would need to be fueled by caffeine and his boisterous love. He walked up behind you, wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. You shared a look in the mirror. The words were unspoken, but you heard them all the same, “I got you,” he spoke with his eyes, tender with emotion.

Then the moment abruptly ended when he swatted your bottom playfully, “Don’t worry. I got myself a triple espresso so I will be bouncing off the walls soon.”

“Brandon!” you laughed, “You do not need caffeine. Please tell me that you are joking. The world does not need a caffeinated Turbo.”

He looked back and smiled, “Oh, but I think it does.”

You went your separate ways. He went into the large, walk-in closet to get dressed in his suit. You stayed in the bathroom to put on your final touches of your hair and make-up. After you dressed in your dress with a slit cut high enough to emphasize your toned leg, you wandered down the stairs. The caffeine from Brandon’s drink had kicked in and he raced around the room in an elaborate game of chase with the dogs. He looked like a cross between a twirling tornado and Tasmanian devil. The game was getting out of control and he came dangerously close to knocking over your favorite floor vase as he sped by the fireplace. “Brandon,” you yelled as his hand knocked the vase over, “Why do you have to run around like a Tasmanian Devil? You are going to break something!” He used his lightning-fast reflexes to catch the vase before it hit the floor.

He swung around the couch and caught sight of you from the corner of his eyes. He stopped suddenly and stood with his mouth agape.

You looked down at your dress nervously, “No good?”

“Oh, it’s good,” he finally choked out, “It’s…..ummmm….. Yeah….. It’s uhhhhh” He searched for the words but could not find them. “You look like an angel,” he whispered when the words finally bubbled up in his brain, “You look like an angel sent from heaven.”

You blushed as he walked over to you. He looked at you in wonder, “just like the song.” He pulled you into a tight embrace as he instructed Alexa to play your song. https://open.spotify.com/track/2E90KUsor4U2abOJGFKtfx?si=1773701ad44c4836

He spun you around as the music filled the room.

I wanna be the one who you believe

In your heart is sent from (sent from heaven)

“You are, YN, you are,” he whispered as he gazed into your eyes, “I may be a Tasmanian Devil, but you are my angel sent from heaven. I love you so much.”

“Brandon….” you spoke softly, “I am no angel.”

“Yes, you are,” he kissed you softly before whispering against your lips, “You are my angel and I am so lucky to have you.”

“We’re lucky to have each other,” you whispered back. Suddenly he lifted you over his shoulder and carried you toward the door.

“BRANDON!” you squealed, “What are you doing you devil you!”

“I see you are embracing my identity, my angel,” he laughed as he grabbed your purse, “The sooner we get to this gala, the sooner we can come home. I can get that dress off of you and show you just how devilish I can be.”

“Is that a promise?” you laughed.

“It’s a damn guarantee,” he swatted your bottom and carried you out the door.

[da-proti-toku-grem]

Assign the classic romance tropes to each JO(+Martin) members (eg. Enemies to lovers for Bojan, ecc)

idk if some of these are considered romance tropes, but let's see...

Bojan - soulmates. This man has a really warm energy and he seems to have a really strong connection with the people he loves. He just seems like the perfect person to be part of a soulmates au.

Jan - forced proximity. But in the sense of, for example, two people that have been refusing to admit their feelings to themselves (and therefore, the other) and then, for whatever reason, end up having to spend too much time together (eg. being locked in somewhere) and you know, one thing leads to another and... well.

Jure - high school sweethearts with a side of crack. Idk, he's just so sweet and adorable and funny, I think he just fits the vibe so well.

Kris - either enemies to lovers OR hurt/comfort + slowburn. The first one I think is pretty self-explanatory, but the other one just screams Kris to me. Being such an organised and perfectionist person, it's really likely that you have anxiety, so I think this kind of slowburn hurt/comfort fits really well.

Nace - coffee shop au, where he's working there and there's this usual customer (that casually has never really been there before but started being a usual when they met him for the first time) that catches his eye. Idk, I think he really fits that kind of au.

Martin - friends to lovers. You know, those friends that clearly have feelings for each other but they are both too afraid to do anything about it because "what if they don't feel the same and I end up ruining our friendship forever?", but ends up with them being happily together.

+ Bonus:

Bojere - single parent Jere and teacher Bojan

Imagine Jere being a single parent of a baby girl, and she tells him that she really wants to learn how to sing. So Jere, like the good father he is that just wants his little princess to be happy, finds a singing teacher for her (who happens to be really hot and sweet).

Safe to say his daughter is not the only one who ends up loving the other man ;).

Jance - coffee shop/bakery owner Nace and tattoo artist Jan

I can imagine Jan going to get a coffee before heading to work and having to try a new coffee shop because his usual one was closed. Then he enters and sees Nace behind the counter attending some other customer, with a warm smile on his face, hair a bit messy, glasses on and sleeves rolled up. Of course, Jan is left absolutely mesmerized by the view in front of him, his eyes darting from Nace's face to the tattoos visible because of the rolled-up sleeves. He tries (and kinda fails) not to stare too much at the man and order coffee like a normal person would. Nace finds the stranger's reaction kinda funny but also thinks "wow he's cute".

So, you know, they end up having a little chat while Jan drinks his coffee (and maybe he gets a little pastry too so he has to spend more time there, but he wouldn't admit that of course), and Jan decides to ask him about his tattoos, blaming it on being a tattoo artist (and completely not because he's desperate to keep the conversation going for as long as possible) and Nace ends up telling him that maybe he'll go to his tattoo studio one day because he really wants to get a new tattoo (once again completely not because he needs an excuse to ask Jan for is number, of course not).

Sorry I always end up giving long af answers but this ask really got my brain thinking of so many cute scenarios :)

[august-anon]

Pray for Mercy

Tickletober 2022, Day 18: Chase [LATE]

this was actually the first fic i wrote for this year's tickletober, months ago when i first finished the prompt list, before i ever officially posted it lol. i have not reread or edited this! i simply do not have the time or energy unfortunately lol, but hopefully its alright and not too messy!

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Fandom: Supernatural

Ship(s): Destiel

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Dean/Ler!Castiel

Word Count: 2736 words

Summary: Dean should've known there were consequences to tickling an angel. Even one with such a cute, innocent smile like Cas.

[ao3 link]

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Dean raced down the halls of the bunker, skidding around corners and almost slipping every other step thanks to only being in his socks. The bunker was supposed to be safe, after all. Why would he need to wear his big, heavy boots everywhere when he could finally live in comfort? Well, Dean certainly felt like a fool, now.

Had the bunker always been this complex? It felt like a labyrinth, unrecognizable and unending, trapping him no matter what turn he took. He thought he knew the place inside and now by now, explored all the nooks and crannies during the late nights where he couldn’t sleep knowing what horrors were awaiting him behind his eyelids. Apparently, he thought wrong. Or maybe that was just the scratch of fear slithering down his neck seeping into his mind, muddling things that he knew that he knew.

Footsteps echoed around him, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Truthfully, Dean couldn’t be sure if they were even real, or just a figment of his own mind, traitorously adding to his torment. In a blind moment of panic, he threw open a door on his left, whipping around to shut it as quietly as he could.

The room was dim, but it was quiet. In fact, his own heavy breathing sounded deafening against the concrete walls. He was tempted to hold his breath to hide it, not wanting to give away his position, but if he was found, Dean knew that he would need it. He backed slowly into the room, eyes trained on the door as he shuffled his feet, moving slowly and carefully so he wouldn’t bump into anything and alert anyone, or anything, to his current location. As long as he was quiet, he would be safe here. Please, let him be safe here.

There was a quiet ruffle of feathers behind him, and Dean barely had time to register the sound as danger before backing into a solid chest, not having caught himself in time to stop moving. He did, in fact, stop breathing for a moment, though.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Dammit, Cas, you–!”

Dean didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, not that he really knew where he was going with it in the first place. He was quickly silenced – well, not silenced, more hindered – by Cas’s arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace, using the hold to sneak fingers into all the weak points he could reach along Dean’s sides and ribs.

Dean doubled over in his laughter, trying to claw Cas’s hands off his torso with weak and trembling fingers. Even though he knew it wouldn’t work, Dean was still offended when Cas’s hands crept high onto his upper ribs, making his arms slam down in an involuntary defense. He jerked his torso back and forth, trying to loosen Cas’s grip or dislodge him somehow, but Cas followed easily with every twist and turn. Dean wasn’t gonna get out of this so easily.

“Cas– come on!”

“Sorry, Dean, I can’t quite understand you through your laughter. Would you mind repeating that for me?”

Dean did, in fact, mind. Even if he hadn’t said anything worth repeating. So instead, bicep still pressed tightly to his ribs, Dean raised up his hand showing Cas his middle finger as best as he could.

Cas tutted. “Really, Dean, you should know better to antagonize me at this point. Did you really think you could get away with this morning’s antics without recompense?” 

Note to self: never play Scrabble with Cas.

“Now, do you regret it, yet?”

Dean shook his head. Hell, no. It had been hilarious. And maybe a little adorable. Not that Dean would admit that to Cas’s face. No, Dean would keep all his thoughts about Cas’s gummy smile and his bright, bubbly laughter all to himself, thank you very much. But he certainly didn’t regret it.

Cas sighed. “You will, eventually.”

And then, surprisingly, Castiel let him go. The torment stopped, his arms unwrapped from Dean’s torso, and he took a few steps back from where they had stood, pressed together from shoulders to hips. Dean wobbled and wavered for a moment, having to readjust to holding his weight up on his own again without Cas to steady him through his remaining giggles. He shot a confused look over his shoulder, but Cas stood there as impassively as ever, appraising Dean with a calculated look.

“You have a fifteen second head start,” Cas rumbled, raking his eyes over Dean’s body, “before round two begins.”

Dean’s eyes practically bugged out of his skull. “What?”

Castiel narrowed his own. “You heard me.”

Dean didn’t need to be prompted a third time. He turned tail and ran, damn his jellied legs and trembling knees to hell, sliding down the halls in his stupid patterned socks once more. He wondered if he had time to sneak into his room and change clothes, because he suddenly felt very bare in the t-shirt and boxers he’d been lounging around in all day with Sam being gone, or if Cas would corner him before he got the chance. Ultimately, Dean decided it wasn’t worth the risk, and he kept running, directionless. He could only hope it took Cas a little longer to find him, this time.

Dean was hardly even aware of the twists and turns he was taking, his only goal being “get as far away from Cas as possible,” so when he blindly whipped around a corner and slammed directly into Cas’s body, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just gone around in a circle at some point. Either way, Cas let out a low, growling chuckle into his ear, this time sliding his hands up under Dean’s shirt in the embrace.

“Goddammit!” Dean spat.

“Now, now,” Cas said, his voice infuriatingly calm for how much Dean was struggling in his arms. “Let’s not bring my Father into this.”

“Asshole!”

Cas sighed. “You Winchesters never learn, do you?”

Dean let out a mortifying little yip as Cas’s fingers started spidering all over his back, jerking forward and only further encasing himself in Cas’s arms. He buried his face in Cas’s neck, not wanting Cas to have the pleasure or reward of seeing his face flush from the embarrassment of his own giggling.

“Tell me, Dean, which tickles more. This?” Cas scribbled and spidered his fingers all along the backs of Dean’s ribs and sides. “Or this?” He scratched his fingers ever-so-lightly up and down Dean’s back, the feel-good tingles warring with the building ticklish feeling into a dangerous combination.

“Both, you fucking– Cas!”

Apparently, answering both meant that Cas would do both, which Dean found entirely unfair. He whined through his giggles, so far past embarrassment (at least, for this round), squirming forward and back in Castiel’s grip like either direction would get him anywhere. And then, just as quickly as he swooped in, Cas vanished from his personal space, leaving Dean wobbling once more. He leaned against the wall for a second, trying to catch his breath through his giggles.

“You have ten seconds,” Cas said.

Dean’s head shot up. “Ten?!”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “I am being incredibly generous, giving you these head starts. Are you sure you wanted to waste your time arguing with me?”

A slew of expletives slipped out of Dean’s mouth. He pushed himself off the wall and bolted past Cas, nearly tripping over himself with how shaky his legs were. Dean had been a hunter his entire life, stalked by monster and man alike, but never before had he felt more like prey than this moment. How was Cas finding him so easily, every single time? All he needed was a moment to think.

He did not get that moment. Instead, he skidded to a stop on his stupid socks, almost falling on flat on his ass, as Castiel emerged from one of the doors ahead of him. He glanced over and walked in Dean’s direction, calm and cool and collected, and Dean felt himself get even more frazzled in return. He turned on his heel and sprinted in the opposite direction, chanting lose me, lose me in his mind all the while.

Only for Cas to emerge from a different door up ahead in this direction, once again starting a calm walk in Dean’s direction.

Dean felt a wave of indignance go through him, remembering all the things he’d read about humans being endurance hunters. How they would tire out their prey, track them calmly, letting the prey spook and race off, only to be found and repeat the process again. Eventually, the prey would tire out, be too exhausted to keep it up, and that was when the human would strike. Then again, the post Dean had read was about pet owners trying to catch their escaped cats, so who knew what the truth was to that.

Cas may not have been a human, but that just gave him a sharper advantage. As an angel, he couldn’t exactly tire, but Dean, the so-called endurance hunter, could. Cas was one of the only things above humans on the food chain, and Dean was about to become lunch. The endurance hunter becoming the endurance hunted.

God, it was fun. Not that he’d ever admit it, even under pain of death.

Dean whipped around and jogged down another hallway, taking a multitude of twists and turns to try and throw Cas off his trail. Then, because it had worked so well the first time, Dean picked a door and ran inside. He almost locked it, before remembering that it would only be a detriment to himself when he would inevitably have to run away again.

Dean tried to steady his breathing, backing slowly away from the door, before he remembered where that got him last time. He whipped around, eyes scanning the dark room and ears straining for the sounds of ruffling feathers. Don’t find me here, Dean pleaded in his mind. Don’t find me here, don’t even look here.

A quiet, rolling noise caught Dean’s attention, and he whirled around to see the doorknob turning ever-so-slowly. He spat out a quiet curse, glancing around the room for a hiding place and finding none. Ultimately, he decided to back up until his back hit the wall. At least this time, there could be no surprises from behind. The door opened with a creak, and Dean tried to wipe all the giddiness and nerves from his expression. He didn’t need to give Cas the satisfaction.

“Hello again, Dean.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Cas quirked an eyebrow, walking forward again at that maddeningly slow pace. Dean didn’t see the point in running – the room was too small for him to dart around Cas to escape, and he’d just make a fool of himself in the process – so instead, he pressed himself further into the wall, trying to brace for the coming attack.

But the attack didn’t come, this time. Instead, Cas leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet and languid. Dean tried to keep his composure, but it was only seconds before he melted into it, closing his eyes and humming in contentment. Cas guided Dean’s arms up around his shoulders and wrapped his own arms around Dean’s waist, pushing him even further into the wall as he pressed their bodies together. Just when Dean felt like he couldn’t stand it another moment, his lungs getting the better of him after all the running and the repeated tickle attacks, Cas pulled back and he gasped in a few breaths of air.

“Hi,” Dean murmured, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Cas brushed their noses together. “Hi.”

Cas slid his hands back around so that they were resting lightly on Dean’s stomach and hips. Dean kept his own arms around Cas’s neck for the time being, trying to count the hues of blue in Cas’s eyes.

“Are we done, then?”

Cas quirked both eyebrows this time. “No. I was just trying to lower your guard.”

Dean’s face dropped. “Wha–?” 

He cut himself off with a gasp as a light, tingling sensation made itself known in his lower stomach and hips, radiating deep into the nerves. He grunted and shifted, trying to bring his hands down to defend himself, push Cas’s hands away, something, only to find that his arms were trapped around Cas’s neck, and he only succeeded in pulling Cas closer. Fucking angel mojo, tickling him with it and trapping him? That really wasn’t fair.

“You– asshole!”

“Just let go, Dean,” Cas mumbled, leaning forward to nuzzle his stubble into Dean’s neck. “You know you want to.”

Dean let out a choked sound with the added sensation on his neck, smushing his face down against Cas’s to try and push him out. All the while, the tingling beneath Cas’s hands only snuck deeper beneath his skin, growing and building on top of itself until it was almost unbearable, despite how light the feeling was. Against his will, strangled little snickers started bubbling up his throat and spilling from his lips.

“Damn you,” he bit out through it all. “How do you keep finding me so fast?”

Cas cocked his head to the side, the move far more innocent than Cas deserved to pretend to be, like a puppy who ate your lunch and was trying to make you forget all about it. Well Dean would not be forgetting, thank you very much, especially not while the puppy was still actively chewing on his damned sandwich right in front of him.

“Are you aware,” Cas said, “that you have been praying this entire time?”

If Dean could’ve frozen, he would have. Instead he was stuck squirming back and forth as his jaw dropped open, only widening the way for more laughter to escape as the light buzzing radiating out from his core threatened to consume him.

“What?!”

“Praying. Everytime you run, or try to hide, or think you hear me coming, you pray. For mercy, for guidance, for luck. And it seems I must be your default to pray to, because I heard every word, Dean. Every. Word.”

Fucking shit, how much did Dean push into those prayers? How much did Cas hear of his internal monologue? Just how screwed was he?

“You fucking cheat–”

“I don’t recall you establishing any rules. Do you?”

“There was no time–” Dean squealed, cutting himself off, as the tingling buzz swirled down and centered itself solely on his hips.

“Well, that’s your own fault, is it not?”

Oh fucking damn him. Cas played these games too well.

“Don’t worry, Dean. We both know you wouldn’t have wanted rules in the first place.”

“Fuck you.”

Cas retaliated with a raspberry directly in the crook of his neck. Dean’s knees went out, cackling and tearing up with the intensity of it all. Cas pushed into him, pinning him in place against the wall, not letting him have even that escape.

“Are you sorry yet?”

Sorry?? Sorry for what, crying all over his trench coat?

“For attacking me this morning?”

“Yes,” Dean cried out. “Yes! I’m sorry!”

Cas had mercy. He lifted his face out of the crook of Dean’s neck and pulled away his hands, sucking out the vibrations of his grace along with them. A moment later, the invisible bonds on Dean’s wrists and hands vanished and he was able to pull them back towards his body, rubbing away the ghostly feeling the grace tickles left behind.

“You have another ten seconds before round four begins.”

Dean blinked. “But– I said sorry!”

Cas stared at him, his gaze steady and calm. “I don’t believe you truly want this game to end.”

Dean didn’t know how to reply to that. He certainly would not be telling Cas that he was right.

“And since you seem so inclined to waste your headstarts, why don’t we make it five seconds, instead?” Cas smirked. “I suggest you run now, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t stupid enough to earn himself another penality, so he shoved Cas off him and he ran, a grin tugging at his sore cheeks all the while. He wondered what would be waiting for him at the end of the chase this round. He couldn’t wait to find out.

But that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy on Cas.

[petitelepus]

hey hey!! I love your matchups and writing so much!

i'd like a yandere demon matchup!

i'm a cheery girl, who tries to make sure people are cared for! whenever I'm with my friends, I am very playful with them. I tease them a lot, and sometimes I playfully argue or hit them. they also say I make to much sexual comments/my libido is to high. But whenever they don't typically match my energy, it gets me overthinking to the point where it causes me unnecessary stress. I have short curly brown hair that frames my face, cut into layers! my face is a bit round, but still defined! I have blue eyes and I love messy dark eye makeup, I also adore jewelry and flamboyant things! people even say I wear to much I love to dress in 90s-2000s grunge, rhinestones and big buckles are my calling! with a lover, i'd say I'm very clingy and my love language is physical touch. if I could be in their skin, I would. I am a Scorpio! I love to read and write poetry, and my favorite genre is dark romance. I enjoy long walks at night! I enjoy when it gets cold so I get to feel a little nip of coldness in the air.

thank you sosos much!! you are the best :)

Enmu is Yandere for you!

Let's imagine that you aren't aware of his Blood Demon art. This twisted petite Demon has to admire your sweet kindness and playful nature. In a way you remind him of himself, only Enmu is anything but kind.

You're pretty cute also and your style certainly leaves a lasting impression. It's cute how you set yourself apart from the rest of the pitiful humans. You're both charming and alluring being, easily winning him over.

You certainly are a happy-sounding creature... He wants to see you at your best and definitely at your worst. Enmu can't help but wonder what your hidden fears and nightmares are?

Would you cry and ruin that makeup of yours if he made you see something horrible? Would you cling to him if he told you he could make them go away? You don't need to know that he's the one behind those awful nightmares, let's let you have this sweet image of him.

Enmu is certainly both sadistic and masochistic and it shows when he falls for you. Tease him, flatter him, leave him blushing, and turn him into a flustered mess! He promises to return the favor and if you cry? Well, that's just a bonus.

Yes, cling to him, call him wonderful, and make him feel like he is your whole world because you certainly are his!

The relationship between you two certainly is almost exactly like one from those dark romance stories or poems of yours and Enmu is your source of inspiration.

The dreams he gives you are meant to control and manipulate you. If you start avoiding sleeping, he will be there for you and offer to take you out for a walk to catch some fresh air.

The night is young and he wants to see how the dreams you have been having are reflecting on your appearance and behavior.

Would you be snappy if you slept poorly? Would you get depressed in need of more sleep? Would you smile and tell him what a sweet dream you had of him and you together?

Enmu can't tell what he loves giving you most, happy dreams or nightmares because they both ultimately chase you into his arms.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

evanstan dads with a little romanian toddler who doesn’t quite grasp the different between the two languages he’s been taught. Sebastian’s heart breaks at how he cries at daycare because his teachers don’t understand him when he’s trying to tell them something. Chris just talks to his precious son, doing his best to calm him down. He takes Sebastian in his arms, a loving embrace as he lets his husband know he’s loved.

A little boy running around the house chasing Dodger, screaming with laughter and yelling “Puppy! Doggy! Vino aici!” and laughing even more when the dog gets in a playful stance, not understanding the kiddo and thinking it’s play time.

Kisses and giggles and messy lunches, both chicken nuggets and savarina covering the high chair that the little one is sat in.

THIS. IS. SO. SWEET.

Their tiny bilingual baby! Poor guy!

I can imagine such a little kid with that pure, chaotic, happy energy that's so common in kids, but also, that's so Sebastian.

Every time their son is bouncing off the walls, Chris gets so soft over him, wanting to sweep him up into a huge, cuddly bear hug because that's so much like Seb. Excitable and sweet. It reminds him so much of his husband, but it's not his husband. That's their kid.

God.

It breaks Chris into sappy bits.

This is so, so adorable! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts! <3

P.S. I think you'll like this older ask

[achelouise]

For context, please read part 1.

words: around 1k

fandom: genshin impact/原神

pairing: (hinted) shikanoin heizou x gn!reader

warnings: STILL VERY MESSY LMAO

summary: after being caught, you and heizou have a little chat.

a/n: i’m just going with the flow here, this is unbeta-ed and ehhhh, am i going to continue this? maybe, maybe not, also kazuhas mirage was WOW, my hands are shaking from such a long domain,, not complaining tho－ speaking of kazuha i might write a drunk kazuha oneshot because HE WAS SO ADORABLE, are yall up for it?

side note i finally beat floor ten yesterday, tysm kazuha for the carry－ but it immediately refreshed today lmao rip me :“D

You both slip away from the curious eyes of the villagers, just as the sun begins to peak out from the mountains of Yashiori. Honestly, your heart is pounding－ the man saw and heard for his own two eyes, you doubt he’s pulling you aside for a nice little chat.

Despite all that, you are stronger than him. You know this. You have yet to place your sword back in your sheath. You’re sure this is a good enough warning for him.

“Are you going to take me in for interrogation?” you ask. 

Shikanoin only smiles. It looks pretty infuriating on him. “I dunno. Am I?”

Shikanoin Heizou, famous detective of the Tenryou Commision. Rejecting countless offers of higher positions just to run around and apprehend criminals all day.

That’s as much intel as you’ve gotten so far. But is it intel when it comes from biased hatred? Sango seemed pretty pissed at the kid.

You snicker. “How is anyone going to believe you?”

“In a world where gods exist, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone spun a tale about demons’ contagious energy coming from miasmas.” Shikanoin retorts. 

“Demons have been mistaken for the unfortunate inflicted by Tatarigami. What makes this so different?” 

“I could go back to bring the body and let the healers check.” 

He’s bluffing so hard, but he looks so confident it nearly looks true. 

“Purged demons’ bodies are disintegrated into thin air.” You laugh. 

Shikanoin’s eyebrows furrow. You silently cheer at the achievement of stumping the oh-so great detective.

“I think we both know you could never prove demons’ existence,” you say, a hint of a threat lying beneath your mocking, carefree tone. “You just have to know you’re not insane. Goodbye, Detective.”

But as you step away from him, a gust of wind rings dangerously loud in your ear. You glance back at the glowing Anemo vision. 

This little shit wants to mess with you? He’s lucky you don’t have an Anemo vision, else you’d have blown his ass away back to Narukami already.

“I’m not here to prove anything.” Shikanoin cuts through the howls. He’s carrying a catalyst, but he isn’t even using it.

“What do you want, then? Money?” you roll your eyes. Being a slayer pays well, but you’re not one for riches. You doubt Shikanoin is, either.

“An explanation.” Shikanoin replies, a hint of a smile back in his voice. “You’re from another world, where demons roam free, yes? It never hurts to learn more.”

You call bullshit. “Why would you need to?”

Shikanoin tsks. “Learning for the sake of learning is a very valuable life lesson. Surely you’d understand, being a slayer and all?”

You calm yourself, despite every fiber of your short-tempered being urging you to punch the daylights out of him. “And why should I?”

“I might not be a high-ranking officer, but I still have a reputation. It’s my words against yours. Who would they believe?”

You bend down in a stance. “How are you so confident I won’t kill you here, right here, right now, to dispose of eye witnesses?”

Shikanoin laughs. “You feel guilty of killing a man-eating monster. What about me, a simple, ignorant, little detective?”

“The guilt I harbor is nothing compared to the importance of keeping my－ and many others’ existence－ a secret.”

But he’s right. You swore to your blade, your family, and your peers that you would never, ever lift a finger against the innocent. 

“Oho? So there are more of you?” Shikanoin grins.

“I might be bluffing.” you respond, but Shikanoin’s gaze pierces through your truths and lies. You know this, because his eyes remind you too much of your master.

“Suuuuure.” Shikanoin drawls. “You know, in Liyue there are mystical beings called the Adepti. There’s one in particular, who is rumored to be the Conquerer of Demons. Are you two－”

“No.” You cut him off. “No demon or slayer has ever crossed the sea towards Liyue or Mondstadt.”

At least, you hope so. Maybe a demon with a ice blood demon art could bridge across its humongous gap－

“So, slayers are mortals?”

“Correct.” You reply. “Inazuma is an archipelago. Many demons that were once teleported there, stay there. But…” You clench your blade and shake your head. “Nevermind.”

Shikanoin’s face morphed into worry. Perhaps he’s guessed it－ the fact that some stubborn demons on stranded islands like Tsurumi or Seirai Island are slowly starting to come towards Narukami, Watatsumi and Yashiori, in search for new life.

It has concerned the organization for the longest time. Some believe as long as they keep killing, they will eventually run out. But the problem is there is an influential figure that has Muzan’s blood－ lots of it, in fact.

“For the sake of the people, we stand against the monstrous beasts and fight with our lives.” You conclude. “Happy?”

“Dramatic! But no.” Shikanoin says with his concentrated expression, and you groan.

“Listen, I’m just a lowly swordswoman. I’m just like that Kaedehara guy. A person who wanders the world and defends those with my blade. Treat me like a fugitive, if you will.”

Shikanoin smirks. “You’re really behind the times. Kaedehara has long since been lifted of his criminal charges. In fact, he’s the talk of the town.”

“But I thought it mostly circulated around rumors?”

“Not really.” Shikanoin shrugs. “Before General Gorou of the Watatsumi successfully committed tax evasion－” 

“He what－” 

“I asked him whether Kaedehara truly did parry the Musou No Hitotachi, and he said he witnessed it with his own two eyes.” His eyes grew solemn. “Apparently, it was with the help of a vision of a late friend.”

A late friend. You hope there comes a day where it is not a common occurrence.

A wanderer who has the mighty strength to parry the will of a god. What ambition does he carry to deflect one?

The distant cry of a bird awakes you.

“Listen, you have your own work to do, and I have mine.” you say, placing your blade back in your sheath. “I’ll have a crow come yelling at me to do my job any minute now. You should probably go back to your station, or whatever.”

Shikanoin huffs. “Take me with you, then.”

You snort. “Very funny.”

One look at his face suggests that it’s not.

“You’re serious?” you ask in bewilderment.

“What? I have nothing to do these days.” Shikanoin shrugs. He walks around you in circles, a shadow of a smile at play. “Whatever technique you’re using, plus the power of the gods－ it makes you nesr invincible in the eyes of others, no? What kind of idiot would I be, if I didn’t learn it?”

Learn it? Learn it? How does one learn the pain and suffering demons bring? What kind of idiot would want to learn the skills that stem from hurt and emotional turmoil?

“You don’t understand what’s at stake here,” you hiss, the memories of the trials, the pain and suffering you’ve gone through, anger of such ignorance pulsing through your veins and straining your voice with unsung sorrow. “You can’t get attached to anyone there. All your acquaintances, your friends, the ones you save, they can be gone in an instant. 

“It’s nothing different to the battle that happened five hundred years ago. There are no chests to be found, no scenery to enjoy. You keep searching, slaying until there is one so powerful even you can’t defeat, and eventually die at their hands.”

You withdraw your emotions with a slight huff. “So please, do not even think about leaving whatever you have. This path is for those with an only motive to save. We kill those who defy us. We don’t put them in jail cells or judge their sins. Those with courage and understanding take this path.”

Your eyes darken. “Once you take it, you can never go back.”

“CAW!”

A crow’s cry alerts you, and you extend your arm. The crow’s feet grip on your arm with ease, and it cries out.

“Southeast! South-Southeast! Hop on a waverider to Seirai Island!”

Seirai Island? But there’s barely any civilization there… “What’s the situation there?” you ask, and the crow lets out its obnoxious cry.

“Demons are circling the Asase Shrine! Caw! Head over there quickly! Or I’ll peck your eyes out!”

“… That’s one feisty bird.” Shikanoin comments from his deep thoughts.

“Shut it, brat! Caw!”

You hum. “There is a House with a Wisteria Crest near Jakotsu Mine… maybe I could rest for a night there.”

“No! Head over there immediately! Immediately! Caw!”

You choke the bird. “You shut up!” you bark. “I spent a day and a half tracking down the demon terrorizing Konda Village, do you know how exhausted I am?”

The crow lets out a warbled cry, and you let it go. It speeds up to a height where you cannot reach, and hovers around you in circles.

“Southeast! South-Southeast! Caw!”

You grumble and turn to Shikanoin. “Listen, we might be the same age, but some work is best left for people like me－ homeless, and having nothing to lose. Go ahead and continue apprehending criminals or whatever.”

You turn away and begin walking. “Or maybe help that poor kid named Chouji. He’s near Jakotsu Mine, too, but his mother went to Sumeru. If you can’t find him, head to Narukami. Unlike me, he actually has a dream to travel the world.”

Maybe you could even bluff and scare him a little bit. 

“And if I catch wind of a single thing related to this incident－ you will be branded as a danger to the organization, and I will have no reason not to get rid of you. Farewell.”

Before Shikanoin can reply, you speed away, with your crow tailing behind you－ riding the wind towards danger.

yuh

part 3~

[catty-words]

(1/5) My end of chapter 5 theory. After this glorious sentence (tyvm) “Okay,” he says, then braces himself on straightened arms and pierces into her and pierces into her and pierces into her...Ben is exhausted and only has enough energy to get rid of the condom and toss it away before he dozes off. Devi, however can't sleep still coming down from the high that is Ben. As her breathing slows she realizes that Ben is breathing deeply and she turns to call tease him about it (stamina stuff)...

(2/5) but realizes that he's asleep. This comforts her, and she contemplates waking him up but instead inches closer to him. She studies him and notices his messy hair from how much she's pulled on just a few minutes ago, and she gently smooths it out and even in his sleep he moans contently but remains asleep, and she smiles with a fuzzy feeling in her stomach. She traces the outline of his jaw, and he nudges against her fingers with his jaw still asleep and she kisses his jaw gently...

ao3 user benvi123, i LOVE YOU and tumblr rudely ate the rest of this beautiful fic-of-my-fic you were writing in my ask, i'm so sorry your lovely words were lost to the ether but this is so SOFT and SWEET and i am SHOVING MY HEAD IN A BLENDER ABOUT IT

what i'll say is that even if i don't know exactly where you're going with this, since i didn't explicitly write anything about the blank space between their intercourse concluding and ben waking up in devi's bed, you are free to imagine whatever your heart desires. and your heart's desires are adorable so far, so thank you for sharing them.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hiii congrats on 1.5k! ♡♡♡

I'm requesting for an option one:

✨so to participate for this one, all you have to do is give me a character from a fandom and why you picked them, and any information about yourself you want to give me, and i’ll write you a blurb and tell you why i think your chosen character would like you.✨

And I'm choosing James Potter simply bc his characterization on both fanon and canon is interesting in general. I love his sunshine personality, the sheer arrogantconfident attitude and the love and adoration he has for his friends (the man became an animagus for his bsf and died for his wife and child ffs),, and honestly the description "it was james who had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it" that sold it to me. I also kinda have a thing for cute confident guys in glasses and messy curls maybe but let's ignore that

About me,, so I consider myself a stem girly (studied bio and I'm working in a lab atm), I'm sorta a black cat person, an introvert, and I have this tendency of keeping to myself most times, I'm consider the weird, chubby, quiet art kid bc i love arts (like doodling and sketching) and I also like singing along to songs when I'm working on things,,, I had like a phase where I kept changing hair colors monthly and my current style is a bit modernized vintage 70s outfits and casual corporate wear bc sometimes I like exuding the energy of a strong independent woman who can do great things bc I consider myself as one!!

I think that's all for me,, thanks so much and congrats again!! ♡

hi!

thanks for participating :)

(first of all, that’s one of my favorite quotes from atyd omg)

i think james would be drawn to you just because you’re a lot different than he is. he’d find you fascinating, and he’d make it a point to get to know you. he’s a very social and easygoing person, and i don’t think he does very well on his own. one of his main love languages is definitely quality time. but while i think he’s a social person, i do think he also gets a little burnt out. everyone relies on him to be the positive one, and it would be hard on him always being that person for everyone else when no one would be it for him. with you, he’d never feel like he had to put on a front. you’d be easy to calmly talk to and open up to, and he wouldn’t feel like he needed to entertain you or keep the conversation going. you’d be content to have a quiet day with him if he wanted one, and he would never say no to getting to spend time with you.

he would find your interest in art really endearing. whether that be in the way you expressed yourself through clothes, the songs he’d catch you singing to yourself, or your sketches you’d show him. james is a very talented person, but i don’t think he’s a very artistic person. so he’d think it was really cool that you were, and he’d always be up for hearing about it. he’d also think your interest in science is cool. he’s smart in a certain sense and gets passable grades, but being a top performing student isn’t really that high on his list of priorities. your education being important to you would show him that you’re really driven and hardworking, and he’d be really proud of all the effort you put into things.

—

he’d also definitely pick you as his partner in potions because of your skill in the lab.

he’d watch over your shoulder as you mixed ingredients into the cauldron, slightly bewildered at how nonchalantly you were reading through your textbook and brewing the potion with ease. every once in a while you’d look up and ask him to help you, or you’d explain what you were doing as you worked.

sirius would gripe from the adjacent table where he was sitting on his stool, in a temporary timeout from remus because he’d somehow already managed to fuck up their potion.

“it’s no fair! how come you get the good partner and im stuck with moony? he won’t even let me touch the cauldron.”

you’d chuckle, continuing to read through the instructions. “i wouldn’t either. i’m barely letting james help.”

“hey!” james would say, feigning offense as he threw an arm around your shoulder. “i’ll have you know i’m very helpful. one of us has to carry the ingredients all the way over from the shelf and back. what would my mum say if i let you do all the heavy lifting?”

“yes, how very chivalrous of you,” you’d tease, leaning into his side.

he’s grin down at you, passing you another jar of ingredients as he read the textbook over your shoulder. “i know. that’s just the kind of guy i am. i’m all about teamwork, love. a joint effort and all that.”

“sure you are, potter.”

you’d playfully roll your eyes, taking the jar from his hand. he’d continue watching in silence as you worked, resting his chin on your shoulder.

—

thanks again for participating! sorry this is a little short, i hope you enjoyed it :)